


What Went on One Winter Wedding

by Ruby_Eyes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Again, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Wedding Fluff, Why do I keep writing abt weddings?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 03:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10481316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruby_Eyes/pseuds/Ruby_Eyes
Summary: They don't know each other, never even met... But Jaime's already practically nibbling at Brienne's leg right now.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ridiculous wedding traditions I've seen... They're here.  
> (Note to RB: This doesn't have anything to do with the other fics. Iba itey XD)

“Higher! Higher!”

  
Everyone in the Weirwood Hall chanted as the best man who caught the bride’s garter slowly pulled the damned white thing up to Brienne’s knee… with his teeth.

Brienne was certain that some of those who cheered were only doing so to make fun of either the unlucky man or her, the ugly, hulking misfitfrom Tarth. As for the others, like the bride's family who were practically her family too, she didn’t know why they wanted the garter to get any higher. And she couldn’t use her mind to figure that out because it was too busy willing her whole body to quit trembling.

  
Never had any guy touched Brienne this way – if you can even simply call that a touch.

  
In the past, she had already broken noses and jaws of men who tried to get close to her – mostly for more than inappropriate reasons. Men treating her as if she should be thankful for the indecent attention someone like her is getting from them.

  
But this golden god crouched by her leg had gone even beyond all those assholes could’ve gotten had she let them get close enough.

  
Jaime Lannister. He said that was his name. And he said it with such a smug face earlier, even displaying the garter for everyone to see in front of her red, horrified, ugly face. He definitely is a ruder, prettier and taller version of Sansa’s dwarf husband, Tyrion Lannister.

  
‘ _Did he just smirk?_ ’ she silently pondered, only able to peek at his face when he pulls the garter back from her muscled, freckly leg. All she can see was the top of his golden head.

  
She prayed that she could stop shaking at every _accidental_ touch of his nose or his teeth on her skin but she can’t help it. How could she not shiver? It was chilly as it was in Winterfell. To make things worse, she was wearing a tube, floor-length gown with a ridiculous thigh-high slit. She, like the other bridesmaids, was made to wear a long, dark gray fur cloak to dull them up, probably and give all the attention to Sansa’s blue wedding cloak. And maybe to keep them warm, too. But that didn’t really help with Brienne sitting down. She silently cursed at Margaery for the thousandth time for insisting that all of Sansa’s bridesmaids should have the outrageous slit on the gowns. Now, she has to endure the cold Winterfell air and the silent mockery of the handsome but arrogant man by her overly-exposed leg. And he’s now pulling the garter up higher than her knee, and later, probably to a never-explored region of her thigh. There came the shiver again.

  
Jaime momentarily stopped and let go of the garter when it reached an inch above her knee and looked up at her. He bit a smile before asking, “Will you ever stop gasping and trembling? Even if I still had the fingers of my now missing hand, they won’t be enough to count how many times you probably almost fainted from your seat.”

  
She scowled at him. “Well, will you ever stop nearly biting my skin at every inch you pull the garter up?”

  
He chuckled. “I didn’t ask for this, wench.”

  
She rolled her eyes. “It’s Brienne, not wench. And neither did I ask for that stupid bouquet to fall on my head and get tangled with my hairpins.”

  
Brienne cringed as she recalled how Arya looked like she was just playing volleyball at the bouquet toss as she dug the bunch of blossoms towards Brienne’s direction. She had to wonder how much dragons Margaery paid the cheeky sister of the bride to do that.

  
For some odd reasons, Jaime spent a few seconds just grinning in front of her, his emerald eyes practically luring Brienne, hypnotizing her to forget that he was arrogant and she can just pine, moon and swoon for him without holding back. She shook her head to break from the spell. Not that she succeeded.

  
“Are we done here?” she asked Margaery, who was standing a few feet from behind Jaime and now acts as the wedding master of ceremony as part of her role of a controlling maid-of-honor.

  
The brunette simply gave her a tight-lipped smile and a wink, once again making Brienne nervous.

  
She was about to stand up when she heard a voice from the crowd. “Hey, golden boy!”

  
She turned her head and saw a huge, red-haired, bearded man looking at Jaime. “If you haven’t got the balls to get the garter any higher up that beautiful leg, I’m man enough to do it in your place.”

  
Brienne coughed in surprise. _And why would that crazy ginger-guy want that_?

  
She was still figuring that out in her head when she turned back to Jaime and saw his expression turning… grim?

  
He placed his hand on Brienne’s knee to support him as he got up. He then placed his prosthetic hand on Brienne’s shoulder, triggering another shiver. Then he plastered an obviously sarcastic smile on his face.

  
“You may be _man_ enough to do that, mister, but I am…” he hesitated. “Uh, _gentleman_ enough to consider the lady’s comfort.”

  
That took Brienne aback she may have stared at him too long. He really intended to stop just above her knee, didn’t he?

  
Jaime looked at her with those alluring emeralds again and offered a hand to help her stand up. “I think we’re done with that part of these silly wedding traditions, m’lady.”

  
She swore she was starting to melt on her chair. But she knew how much more ridicule she’ll get if people noticed that, so she simply took his hand, got off her seat and wished upon the Old Gods, the Seven and all the others there ever were that she had been a real lady in this life.

  
*****************************

The ginger wildling of a man was the same guy who fought with Bronn earlier over who gets to stand in the middle of the hall for the garter toss. Jaime remembered the same desperate, ogling eyes the man had for Brienne earlier as he pushed Tyrion’s other groomsman so he can get an easier access to the garter. And Bronn, being his proudly crass self, didn’t let the ginger-ass win. Idiot the Second wants some legs himself. _Dammit_!

  
Jaime wanted to tie the two idiots in a knot, together with the other unworthy single men who had the guts to vie for the garter – the Clegane brothers, stupid Hyle Hunt, stupid, stupid Theon Greyjoy, and the most stupid of all, Ramshit Bolton who looked like he just stood there because Greyjoy was there. He wanted to bury them all alive so he’ll be the only one left to catch the garter and personally meet the blue-eyed, leggy, awkward woman he’s been eyeing since he stepped in the wedding hall.

  
He just wanted to meet her. That’s all he wanted… for now. He already regretted enough that he missed the rehearsals and the chance to know her earlier.

  
She just had the weirdest appeal to Jaime. As per Westerosi standards, she’s definitely ugly. She won’t even pass for average what with her mannish built, straw-like nest of hair, her wide mouth, her crooked teeth and slightly broken nose. The terrible tube gown made it worse by emphasizing her broad shoulders.

  
But he didn't mind the slit. His mind was into it, though.

  
He couldn’t blame it. How could he when the amazon woman owns the sexiest, strongest-looking legs he had ever seen but her eyes look like they belonged to an innocent kid?

  
And she didn’t seem appalled at his maimed hand. Her eyes didn't have the usual reaction people give him – pity, disgust or disappointment at his imperfection. None of that.

  
She just… looks.

  
And so does he. It’s pretty difficult not to when she has such adorable blushes especially when taunted or touched.

  
“Aye, but you were just lucky enough I was distracted during the garter toss!” the ginger man loudly grumbled, interrupting Jaime’s thoughts.

Sansa’s half-brother elbowed the guy and attempted a glare from his always broody face. That shut the wildling up.

  
“What’s wrong with him?” he heard Brienne mumble. When he looked, she had both terrified and disgusted expression all over her. “It’s not like what you did with that garter on me earlier was appropriate, let alone such a prize to be fought over.”

  
Jaime silently disagreed. Because when Tyrion hit him on his face after slingshot-style throwing the garter while ginger-man and Bronn were busy fighting, Jaime knew he was in luck. He stepped back and winced from the impact of the stretchable fabric but he was alert to grab it immediately before it dropped to the floor or get snatched by one of the _idiots_. Let all those other single men be damned. And the chance to explore most of the exposed freckles on her leg was a prize worthy of the world even though he was still left wanting more.

  
“I think he and I just got better eyesight than you,” Jaime whispered at her. He grinned at the blush that came after.

  
Brienne opened her mouth but was interrupted when Margaery called everyone’s attention again.

  
“We’re not quite done yet,” the Tyrell heiress announced, making Brienne frown. “As you know, after centuries of enduring the embarrassing bedding tradition of Westerosi weddings, many couples just opt to skip it. That’s exactly what Mr. And Mrs. Lannister wanted. But, we still have so much time in our schedule so I suggested replacing the bedding tradition with a fun one I’ve seen from when I visited a small village in the Summer Isles.”

  
Brienne’s shoulders dropped. Jaime felt her agony in being a single friend of a liberated woman like Margaery Tyrell. He thought that may be almost as bad as being pressured by his controlling father to get married and produce heirs. Funny enough, the old man didn’t even bother showing up at his younger son’s wedding when he’s the more capable one in producing more Lannisters.

  
He didn’t want to stress over that so he just sneakily snaked his good hand on Brienne’s waist, not looking at her. She gasped again but didn’t remove his hand.

  
“Here’s how it goes,” Margaery continued. “The bride and groom will be kissing different parts of their body – just appropriate ones. We’ve got kids here.”

  
That earned chuckles from the guests, and more scowls from Brienne.

  
“Yeah, right. You didn’t consider the kids when you made a man practically nibble away at a whole limb of mine earlier,” Brienne complained with a low voice that stirred something in Jaime’s pants. Not that it hasn’t been at attention since he saw Brienne that morning.

  
“Now, after every kiss from our newlyweds, our bouquet and garter catchers here should imitate the kiss done by Tyrion and Sansa.” Margaery's voice was full of excitement that could fit the whole wedding hall.

  
Jaime could have laughed out loud at that if only Brienne didn’t almost stumble from what she just heard.

  
“Hey, you okay?”

  
She shook her head then slapped a palm on her forehead. “I will kill you after all this, Tyrell.”

  
Jaime smiled at that. She obviously avoided looking at him and was squirming out of his grip. But he didn’t let go.

  
“Don’t worry. I don’t bite,” he jokingly assured her.

  
“You already almost did with my leg,” she replied with a glare. She faced front again while grumpily tugging at the slit of her gown. “Sansa and Tyrion better be proper about all this or I’m ripping this stupid dress off into pieces and flying out to Tarth and never coming back.”

  
Jaime swallowed a lump in his throat caused by the image of Brienne ripping her dress. He needed to calm down.

  
“I think you can trust Sansa on that.” He was trying to reassure her despite his doubts as to whether he and Tyrion can be proper in Brienne's judgment. Gods help him, if Tyrion kissed Sansa somewhere naughty, it’ll be hard not to grab that chance at Brienne.

  
_Damn tight pants!_

  
The newlyweds were all smiles and obviously too happily in love to notice anything else in the hall. They were just staring at each other, Jaime thought they’ll be standing there for the rest of the reception. But finally, Tyrion grabbed Sansa’s hand then turned to his brother before kissing it. Jaime smiled at Tyrion then looked at Brienne before grabbing her hand and putting it to his mouth. She bit her lip as her blushes came once again.

  
She better not do that again or his crotch will be wrecked in no time. Or maybe his pants can take one more lip bite?

  
*************************

  
Sansa initiated the next kiss and leaned down and placed a peck on Tyrion’s forehead. It was still not indecent but Brienne couldn’t keep her mouth from quivering. Before she could think about running off again, thus ruin a perfectly good wedding, she left a quick kiss on Jaime’s forehead. He smiled at her and she felt her head spinning.

  
“It's not really that hard, right?” Jaime said in a hushed voice, leaning in, his warm breath tickling her neck.

  
Her throat felt too dry for her to speak.

  
Tyrion motioned Sansa to lower herself and once she did, he tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her on her temple. Thankfully, Brienne and Sansa both agreed to wear sandals instead of heels or they would have towered over their partners more than they already do.

  
However, the kiss on the temple was already too intimate in Brienne's opinion, so she didn’t know if Jaime's easy access to her face was something to be thankful for. She stared at him and noticed his pupils darkening most of his emerald eyes. She felt his hand on the back of her head and it took everything for her to keep breathing. He gently pulled her down to kiss her temple.

  
_Okay. That easy access was something to thank the Seven heavens for._

  
The people, girls especially, were screaming after every kiss shared by the newlywed couple and the blonde couple beside them. All the more did that make everything embarrassing for Brienne. She silently swore to just pinch every inch of Marg's skin after this as her revenge. For now she simply glared at her cunning friend one last time before looking back at Tyrion and Sansa.

  
Sansa hadn’t stood up yet so she didn’t have a hard time giving a little kiss on Tyrion’s cheek. Tyrion didn’t wait longer and immediately kissed his lovely bride on the tip of her nose.

 

Brienne panicked a bit. Two kisses in one turn. But when she saw Sansa standing up again, she calmed herself somehow. Those should be the last kisses. Sansa knew Brienne can’t do any more than that.  
She smiled at Sansa first before turning to Jaime again.

  
“Are we supposed to do both? Isn’t that just one turn?” she stammered.

  
Jaime grinned at the horrified look Brienne had.

  
He chuckled. “I can do both if you’re too scared. This should be the last anyway.”

  
Her eyes widened at the suggestion and before she could speak, he quickly kissed her cheek then her nose. She felt her warm blush spread from her chest to the top of her head.

  
*****************

  
Jaime saw Sansa giggle so much at her friend’s reaction. Who wouldn't find this woman adorable?

  
The bride then looked over at Margaery, probably to share the funny moment through silent messages.

  
Jaime noticed something odd though. Margaery nodded at Sansa. Sansa nodded back then looked down at her husband with a big smile that mirrored his. What were they up to?

  
Brienne wasn’t looking at the couple, still unsettled from Jaime’s kisses. Jaime was about to tease her about that but he was in for the biggest shock of his day, he forgot what he was about to tell Brienne.

  
Sansa wasn’t quite finished with the kisses – she stooped down again, cupped Tyrion’s face with both hands and kissed her husband long and deep. Even Tyrion raised his hands in shock.

  
The whole crowd cheered again, both for the sweet kiss shared by the newlyweds and the anticipation of how Brienne will take what’s to come.

  
Jaime looked at Brienne and pointed at his brother who was savoring the first time Sansa ever gave him a real kiss for that long in public. Brienne’s eyes widened and she turned her reddest at that moment.

  
Jaime himself was shocked. But he’s definitely not against the idea of getting that same kind of kiss from his partner.

  
“I-I can’t do that,” Brienne stuttered when she brought her gaze back to Jaime.

  
“Should I?”

  
She gasped at Jaime’s suggestion. Then she frowned at him. “If this is about pity, or a bet, or anything stupid, just don’t.”

  
Jaime furrowed his brows, unable to catch her drift. “I’ll pity myself if I don’t get a kiss that romantic. I’ll bet my life just to get that now. And I’ll be stupid not to insist that we do imitate the newlyweds. You won’t want to ruin Sansa’s wedding, right?”

  
She blinked so much and was just silent for a while. That was one long _while_ for Jaime, though.

  
When she finally spoke, his heart could’ve jumped out his chest.

  
“No. I-I don’t want to ruin this.”

  
Jaime grinned. _It pays to have good convincing powers._

  
“Well, aren’t you just glad you don’t have to stoop down that low to give me a kiss?”

  
She opened her mouth but closed it again immediately. People were too busy watching the bride and groom so Jaime didn’t rush Brienne. She stared at him for so long he could've counted the freckles on her face twice.

  
_Gods, those eyes_ , Jaime thought. He placed his good hand on her hip once more. Her frown started fading and she swallowed hard.

  
“In truth… I’m actually glad.”

  
She leaned forward and gave the kiss Jaime had been waiting for.

  
It was a hesitant, inexperienced kiss. But he knew exactly how to savor that. He placed his hand behind her neck and pulled her closer, his action deepening the kiss. He wasn’t sure if the moan he heard was his or hers. She put her hands on his shoulders and he felt her lips imitating what his are doing. She tasted of sweet grapes, honey and lipstick. Her lips, though still a bit chapped, were soft like little pillows. His head was lost somewhere in the Seven heavens. 

He could do this all day, all week, maybe even all year. Fuck, he can do this all his life.

He _wants_ to do this all his life.

  
She was the first to pull back after noticing that the screams of the other guests were now because of the blonde couple and not the newlyweds anymore. Never had Jaime known that a human face was capable of turning as red as Brienne's face. He still adored her for that and more.

  
“I…” she started to speak but wasn’t able to finish.

  
He knew it’ll take her a while to find words so he spoke first.

  
“I hope you’re glad enough that we did that,” he told her in a totally serious voice he never thought he had. “You see, I’m planning to take you out and get more of that for the rest of my life.”

  
She stared at him again with her big, wondering sapphire eyes. She may be searching for hints of teasing or mocking but he knew she won’t find any.

  
Little by little her questioning stare looked like it found answers.

  
Finally, she spoke.

  
“I think I want more of that, too.”

  
And they took the second of the many kisses they shared in their lifetime.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to join the March Meet-cute. If it didn't work, move along. Apologies for the errors, the shortcomings and my tiring insecurity in writing and pretty much everything else.


End file.
